


Dhampyr Fucker D

by Hawthorne_Pisces_Witch



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans Male Character, eventually there will be smut, none of the angst has to do with being trans tho dont worry, these boys just have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 05:33:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18131609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawthorne_Pisces_Witch/pseuds/Hawthorne_Pisces_Witch
Summary: Alucard has been left alone in a castle of stale memories and he's not coping well. Not that anyone could expect him to, after killing his father. Lucky for him that an equally forlorn and beautiful Dhampyr shows up out of nowhere and stays longer than they were both expecting. Trust is slow to build and D keeps his emotions under wraps for far too long, but eventually they learn how to be together.





	Dhampyr Fucker D

**Author's Note:**

> I just love these boys so much, and thought they might make each other happy uwu  
> Also I am pretending there are two different Dracula's... or something. They aren't brothers, however you wanna work that out for yourself is up to you.   
> I'm going to try to keep my update schedule pretty regular, probably I'll post every two weeks.

It has been weeks since Trevor and Sypha left. Since then Alucard has done very little but pace the halls of his former home. He supposes it's his current home as well, but it doesn't feel like it. He feels like a guest, or more like a ghost even. He's read his mother's books, knows the word for his state- he's dissociating. He doesn't know how to stop. His visions- somewhere between memory and hallucinations- greet him unexpectedly around every corner. Sometimes they happen at random spots, but there are places he knows they will always be. His father's study, his parents bedroom, his own room, the library. He usually avoids them. Some days though, he spends tracing the shortest path between all of them. Trying to talk to the dead. His mother, his father, himself as a child- they never say anything new, and never to him. 

He spends most of his time in the kitchens and lower levels. On the first day, after his companions (he can't call them friends with confidence, though when they had seemed to be when they were fighting alongside him) had left he had gone down to the Belmont Hold and found an empty book, waiting to be filled. He had sat at the long table in the kitchen, watched the fire, and told himself he was going to write up a plan for cleaning, fixing, and modifying the castle. He even took some spell books he thought might help; there were simple household spells after all, for cleaning and repairing. 

The book is mostly empty still. On the first page is a list of rooms, the order he planned to go through the castle. On the next two pages are lists of items from the main hall and a guest bedroom he decided to sleep in. One for the magical artifacts he kept, one for things that were destroyed, one for things he purposely got rid of. He did all of that in his first three days. After that it was as if Alucard had hit a stone wall within himself; he could make no further progress. Everything was too boring and draining and painful all at once. 

And then he found the wine cellar. He hates drinking. It dulls his senses, and sour alcohol smells terrible, and being drunk is unbecoming. But maybe it would dull his senses enough to do some cleaning on the upper levels, he thought. He drinks, he goes to those spaces where his family used to live and though he still sees his memories playing out, he can bear it. He watches them until they stop, hungry for the sight of what had been a loving family. He carefully caresses the spines of the books that were his favorite, his mother's favorites, his father's favorites. He fiddles with various scientific instruments int he lab, remembering both is parents explaining what they were for and how to use them. He tells himself he will clean tomorrow. He keeps telling himself this. 

He is sitting, drinking, at the table again, contemplating how brave and absurd it was for Lisa, a human, to bang on a Vampire’s front door, knowing what was inside, when he hears the very same sound. A constant knocking. He must be really hallucinating now, he thinks. But it doesn't stop. It goes on for maybe ten minutes before it becomes annoying enough for him to drag himself off his chair and investigate. 

Alucard stands at the head of the hall and commands the door open, half hoping it will be Sypha and Trevor, though he knows it won't be. They'd have sent a letter, or blasted the door in by now. 

The figure who enters is unfamiliar but unmistakably Dhampir. He couldn't not be- taller than Alucard and broader at the shoulders, with a broad brimmed hat that obscured his eyes and a dramatic black cape. And yet the mid-day sun has no effect on him. He carries a long curved sword. Alucard bristles slightly at the thought of a stranger openly carrying a weapon into his home, and thinks of summoning his own sword. He quickly decides against it as that would be childish, and anyway he'd have to put his wine glass down to handle it. 

After a few moments of tense silence Alucard sighs loudly. “Well who are you then?” He gestures with his lead hand and a few drops of wine spill onto the carpet. Fuck, the stranger probably noticed that. Not that anyone should be able to judge him in his own home, but there's a tension in the room he's unused to and can't quite explain.

Of all the things D expected walking into a Vampire's castle a pretty, obviously inebriated blonde wasn't one if them. And he wasn't even armed. The light from the open door reached the top of the stairs, and yet the man he had assumed was a vampire didn't flinch away or burn. Another Dhampir then. “I am the hunter, D.” 

Alucard narrowed his eyes as he clicked slowly down the stairs, stopping when he was several feet away but level with the mysterious guest. Maybe he was being petty but he didn't want to have this conversation while looking up at the presumptuous stranger. Almost no one was taller than Alucard. Just Dracula and apparently this Dhampir- D, if he could be trusted to give his name. “Nothing left to hunt here,” he said offhandedly, hoping the intruder would leave.

“Is that so? I heard this was the home of Dracula.” 

“Now it is the home of Alucard,” his reply is more forceful than he meant it to be, “son and slayer of Dracula.” 

In the loaded silence D takes off his hat and finally meets Alucard's golden eyes. The discomfort couldn't be more obvious, but at least it is mutual; both men know exactly what the other is, and what that means. The particulars of their stories might be different enough, but as Dhampir they had just enough in common to mistake each other for reflections of themselves. Finally D spoke, “You have accomplished a great task. If you wish to be alone I will leave this instant.” 

A great task. Killing a vampire that old and powerful. Killing your father. Finally, someone who acknowledged the separate difficulties of one action.

Alucard feels lost in the strangers words, untethered and floating. There is so much he wants to say, but he remindes himself that just because there was a flash of understanding it didn't follow that D was a person to trust. He flounders for a moment, takes a sip of wine to give himself time. Finally he decides to do what his mother would expect of him. When he speaks he hears his voice, deep and smooth, as if coming from somewhere else. 

“You may stay as long as you wish. There are a great deal of creatures left to hunt in the area. The guest rooms are that way,” he gestures, “Find me in the kitchens just after sundown if you want some food.” He turns, slightly less gracefully than intended, on his heel and retreats back up the steps.   
*****************

“So, that one sure is a beautiful mess, hmm? Shaking down the stairs of this- let's be honest- wreckage. Do you think he was trying to be intimidating?”

D sighs, curving his fingers loosely toward the palm of Left Hand, an easy warning that the parasite ignores every time. “Come on, say something! You just accepted his- not very heartfelt- offer to stay here without any details whatsoever. You’re thinkin something.” 

D chooses a door at random down the corridor Alucard had pointed out to him and opens it. Inside is a bed, a side table with a lamp, and a fireplace with a table and chair nearby. It’s all ornate, though not as ornate as some of the castle’s he’s been in. Somehow it makes it a little less dreary. Or maybe it just seems more real- this castle doesn't have the advanced technology he's used to, so the classic Gothic aesthetic isn't ruined by drones or chrome-covered computer panels chocked full of deadly traps set in the walls. 

“I think he’s just done something very difficult,” D purposefully uses Left Hand to toss his cape over the chair. “But I don’t think the job is all the way done; there are scads of night creatures roaming the entire kingdom. We can be of use here.” 

“You feel bad for him? Or are you jealous he’s done what you always wanted to do?” Left Hand once again ignores the tightening of D’s hand, “I know you. Ha!- You’re letting your emotions distract you again- people commit patricide for purely personal reasons you know. He could be part of the job.” 

D gets kindling set up in the fireplace as Left Hand talks, the sparks just beginning to catch when he finally answers. “I haven’t discounted that possibility.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3   
> This is my first experiment in either of these fandoms (or at least, the first one I'm posting) so I'd love some feedback.


End file.
